I felt bad at once.

We were so close, there was no way she had had the chance to anticipate my attack and try to counter it; pretty much as soon as I made the decision to attack her, I did, and I immediately drew first blood. I caught a glimpse at the grimace of pain that disfigured her features, but that’s all I got, a glimpse, cuz she was already turning around and I was already anticipating her flailing hooves. She wasn’t just gonna roll over and surrender to my terms, I guess; she was buckling down for the good fight. I could respect that.

What I couldn’t respect was where her hooves tried to fly; instead of flinging them at my chest, like I expected she would, they came at my fucking face, making me back up as quick as I could, scrambling to evade her blows. I was only half-way successful; one hoof missed me, grazing the air beside my cheek, but the other one caught me directly in the throatlatch, pulling a “GUK!” from me as my teeth clacked together. More than anything, though, the blow erased any and all guilt I had about this fight; a thick, hot wave of rage crept up my stomach, searing the pain in my throat.

I. Hate. Fucking. Head-shots.

As soon as her hind quarters started falling for the ground, I charged for her again, to close the distance between us. My face was a mask of fury, and it even felt like I was blowing fire the way I was snorting at her. “NO FACE SHOTS, SOLDIER,” I roared, rearing up as I came upon her; she was twisting to face me, her shoulder coming around and narrowly missing me as I descended toward her. Her teeth, though, found me anyway, closing on my left elbow even as I aimed my own teeth for her wither with the force of my falling weight, to force her into a cruel submission after she’d used such a cheap shot; she was taller but I didn’t think she was that much heavier than me, and I was pissed anyways, so it ain’t like I was directly thinking about it in any case.
Chico had already cleared the area, knowing how wild it could get with battles like these; he’d flown to a nearby bough, smacking down his rabbit meat and paying close attention to our fight. From the way he saw her react to my blows, he was making a connection that I was too mad to make myself--and reflecting on the irony of it all, even if he wasn’t really sorry about it. If anything, it was at least entertaining.


--
@Ru

WC:451
2/3
0/1

"In ornare vitae leo eu volutpat."